


Just A Person

by HeadGirl91



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 21:02:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3264293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadGirl91/pseuds/HeadGirl91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter was just a person. People seem to forget that. And there's only so much a person can take.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just A Person

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic after watching far too much Queer As Folk, so if you're familiar with that, you may see where it could have influenced this fic!

_This is the best thing that could've happened_   
_Any longer and I wouldn't have made it_   
_It's not a war, no, it's not a rapture_   
_I'm just a person but you can't take it_

_The same tricks that, that once fooled me_   
_They won't get you anywhere_   
_I'm not the same kid from your memory_   
_Well now I can fend for myself_

Ignorance, by Paramore

* * *

 

Draco Malfoy hated to admit it, but he was bored. There were only so many Wizarding establishments that catered to his... tastes, and he had tired of them all. Okay, so by the age of twenty-seven, Draco had fucked his way through practically every gay and bi wizard between the ages of fifteen and fifty, and he decided that he needed a change. He wasn't a whore, by any means. He just had a healthy sexual appetite. Pansy kept telling him that he was a commitment phobic, but Draco had stopped listening to Pansy the moment she married some French businesswizard her father set her up with.

Draco's best friend, Blaise Zabini, had offered a solution to Draco's problem. Only, Draco wasn't sure if he was really that desperate yet.

However, Draco's mind was about to be made up. Standing at the bar in Phoenix Tears, England's best gay Wizarding nightclub, he began perusing the prospects.

"Had him. Had that one yesterday. Had those two at the same time...  _He_ must be about seventy. Merlin, they'll let anyone in here," Draco sneered, looking over at Blaise, who was calmly sipping a firewhiskey.

"Don't whinge to me, Draco. I offered you a solution, but it was too good for your stuck-up pureblood sensibilities." Blaise finished the drink and set the glass down on the bar.

"I wouldn't be caught dead in a place like that," Draco glared at his friend.

Blaise raised his eyebrows. "Cock is cock, Draco. If you start to get too picky about where you're getting it, you won't be getting any at all."

"I will never be that desperate."

Blaise shrugged, and then narrowed his eyes at a tall blond on the dance floor. "Well," he said, not taking his eyes off of the blond. "I will be heading there tomorrow night. That's if you've decided you're desperate enough. Now, if you'll excuse me, I plan to be busy for the next couple of hours or so."

Without another word, Blaise pushed himself away from the bar and walked up to the blond, slipping himself beside the man and subtly commanding his attention with ease.

Draco scowled and turned to get another drink. A built man with very neat dark hair sidled up to Draco and offered him a smile. Draco looked him up and down for a few seconds, before flicking his eyes up to the man's face. "I don't do repeats," he stated coldly. The man instantly looked offended and pushed his way back through the crowd.

He watched Blaise leave with the blond half an hour later, and feeling incredibly depressed, Draco left to apparate home. It was the first time in the last two years he had left without someone.

* * *

 

"Oh, this is precious!" Blaise laughed. "Say it again. I fully intend to store this memory in a pensieve later."

Draco gritted his teeth. "You were right. And I'm desperate." He leaned back on the leather sofa and crossed his arms petulantly. "Happy?"

"Aww," Blaise cooed, mock pityingly. "Someone didn't get a happy last night and is taking it out on his nearest and dearest," he sing-songed.

"Spare me the shit, Zabini," Draco scowled. "Are we going or not?"

"Dressed like that?" Blaise looked his best friend up and down, taking in his forest green tailored robe. "Sweetie, that may be okay for Phoenix Tears, but not for Liquid."

"Liquid?" Draco asked stupidly.

"The name of the club," Blaise said slowly, as if Draco was mentally retarded.

"Oh." Draco paused. "So what shall I wear?"

Blaise grinned. "Leave that to me."

Draco smoothed his hand over the black leather trousers Blaise had forced him into, wondering how he'd sunk this low. A  _Muggle_  club.

Blaise looked over at his best friend. "Cheer up, Draco. I'm not sending you to your death." Draco glared at him. Blaise rolled his eyes. "Look, Draco. Do you want a shag, or not?"

"...Yes," Draco mumbled.

"Then come on." Blaise started walking towards the door.

"Oh, AK me now," Draco groaned.

It wasn't that bad, Draco had to admit. Before he had been there twenty minutes, some guy had already given him a blowjob. Maybe Blaise had a point.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room seemed to change. Eyes were on the door, where a man had just walked in. He was just less than six feet tall, with artfully messy dark hair. Within ten seconds, he had seemingly picked a guy out of the crowd, walked over and stolen the attention held by his previous dance partner. The rejected dancer looked put out for a moment, but just turned around and started dancing again.

Draco couldn't take his eyes off of the newcomer. The man exuded sensuality with every move. Draco was captivated. He gestured to Blaise, who brought two drinks over, handing him one.

"What's this?" Draco asked, holding the glass up.

"Southern Comfort and Lemonade," Blaise answered. "Drink it. It's nice."

Draco nodded, taking a sip. Blaise was right. It was nice. Draco nodded towards the man. "People seem to know him," he began. "Have you seen him before?"

Blaise looked over to where Draco was nodding. "Ah, noticed him already?" At Draco's impatient gaze, Blaise continued. "That is Alexander Taylor. He is pretty much the Muggle version of you."

Draco looked even more intrigued. "Really?" he asked.

Blaise knew his friend. They had known each other pre-Hogwarts. He could see where Draco's thoughts were leading. "Draco, no." At Draco's half-annoyed, half-questioning glance, Blaise went on to explain. "Draco, you know what they say about getting a taste of your own medicine. Maybe Taylor is a little out of your league for the time being."

Draco scoffed. " _Please_. I'm Draco Malfoy. No one is out of my league."

Blaise grabbed his arm. "In Phoenix Tears, you are Draco Malfoy. In here, you are nothing but the next fuck and a nameless face. Remember that." Blaise let go and watched his friend move through the crowd of dancers. He hoped that Draco knew what he was doing.

Draco was a master at getting what he wanted. He had been doing so since he was born. When he was a kid, he used to be able to get the new 'must have' item on the market before anyone else did. He even managed to get one of his parents to take him wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. As he got older, he managed to fine-tune it into the art of getting men into bed with him. It was part of his 'want, take,  _have,'_  theory. And Draco wanted Alexander Taylor.

Draco danced with a guy next to the elusive Taylor for the first half of the next song, switching partners fluidly. He got closer and closer to his prize with each switch, until finally he was dancing with Taylor himself.

Alexander Taylor was even more gorgeous close up. He seemed to be flawless. His chiselled features stood out in the lights and his eye colour was indeterminable due to the different colours flashing around the floor. When Taylor noticed Draco for the first time, an amused expression flitted across his face. But this was gone in almost an instant. They continued to dance. The next song was slower; a more sensual beat with a resounding bass line. Taylor brought his arms around and pulled Draco closer, so there was nothing but thin layers of clothing separating them. They moved together as if they were one entity. It was as if they knew instinctually what move the other would make.

They danced through the next song, and the one after that. Taylor leaned down after the last song and spoke in Draco's ear so that he would be heard over the music. "Drink?"

Draco nodded and followed the man to the bar, where he saw Blaise had vacated. Taylor turned to him. "What are you drinking?" he asked.

Draco tried to remember what it was Blaise had bought him before. "Um... Southern Comfort and Lemonade," he said finally.

Taylor nodded and signalled the man behind the bar, who nodded and walked over immediately. Draco scanned the crowd, looking for his friend. He couldn't see him anywhere. A glass nudging his arm made him turn around. Taylor was smiling slightly and holding out his drink. "Oh... thanks," Draco smiled back and took the drink from him, taking a sip.

"So," Taylor began. "I've bought you a drink. I think the least you could do would be to tell me your name."

An unreadable expression crossed his face after the words left his mouth, but Draco ignored it. "Draco," he told Taylor. He waited for the snigger at the mention of his name, but it didn't come.

"Draco..." Taylor rolled the word over his tongue as if he was testing it out. He nodded. "Call me Alex," he offered. Alex leaned closer and tugged Draco closer. "Now how about you finish that drink, eh? Then I can show you the nicest place in the whole of London."

Draco carefully kept his expression blank. "Oh yeah?" he said, only semi-interestedly. "And where's that?"

Alex leaned toward Draco's ear again, this time taking the lobe between his teeth and tugging on it softly, before murmuring, "my place."

The words went straight to Draco's cock, but he kept up his cool demeanour. "Sure," he said calmly, taking another sip of his drink.

If anyone had seen the two men walking up the stairs in Alex's building as they headed up to his flat, they would probably have said that they were nothing more than acquaintances; maybe worked together. They each had an air of cool and professionalism. But that all changed once they crossed the threshold and the door closed behind them.

Alex pressed Draco up against the door and smashed his lips down against the blond's in a bruising kiss. Draco returned the kiss with enthusiasm, grabbing hold of the material of Alex's shirt as if to keep him anchored.

Alex let his hands travel down the length of Draco's torso until they were resting on his hips. From there, he brought them round to Draco's arse, cupping a cheek in each hand. He used this to walk them backwards without breaking the kiss or losing any contact between their bodies.

Draco felt like he was in heaven. Alex was a lot more skilled than many of the lovers (if you could call them that) that Draco had had before. Every touch was electrifying. As they reached the open door of the bedroom, they stopped. Draco shifted his hips, rubbing their groins together. They both moaned at the feeling. Alex used the leverage he had to lift Draco off the floor. Draco automatically wrapped his legs around Alex's waist. Alex placed open mouth kisses down the side of Draco's neck, pausing at the base where the neck met the shoulder and biting down gently. Draco arched his back and gasped, the delicious pleasure flowing through him like nothing else he had ever felt before.

Before Draco could even blink, he found himself laid on the bed, Alex's reassuring weight still on top of him. Draco unwound his legs from Alex's waist and put his feet on the bed. Alex was gazing down at him, lust was clearly written in his (as Draco could now see) green eyes. Draco's hands were resting on Alex's back. He moved them down slightly until they were gripping the edge of Alex's shirt. He tugged it up slightly, hoping Alex would get the hint. Luckily, he did. Between them they managed to get the shirt off and Draco ran his hands across the smooth expanse of Alex's back.

Wanting to feel more of him, Draco quickly flipped them over so that he was straddling Alex. He traced the outline of Alex's pectoral muscles softly, fingertips grazing the nipples. Alex hissed and arched up into the touch. Draco, feeling quite pleased with himself so far, leant down and took the nub into his mouth. Alex moaned appreciatively, his hands coming up to bury themselves in Draco's silky white blond hair.

After a little while, Alex was tugging on Draco's hair. Draco looked up to see what the matter was, but Alex pulled him up and kissed him furiously. Before long, the rest of their clothes were flying across the room as they ripped them from each other's bodies eagerly. Alex turned the tables once again so that he was on top, kissing Draco passionately.

Draco felt Alex shift his weight slightly and saw him retrieving a tube and a small packet from the bedside table. Blaise had warned him of this. Apparently, Muggles used these things instead of the spells that wizards used. Alex squirted a generous amount of lube into his hand, coating his fingers in it before bringing them to Draco's pucker. He circled it a few times before quickly slipping his finger in. Alex crooked his finger slightly, making Draco cry out as Alex rubbed his prostate. Alex quickly finished preparing him before pulling his fingers out and reaching for the condom. He tore the wrapper with his teeth and threw it to the side.

Draco watched as Alex leaned away from him to roll the condom down his length. He felt a strange sort of loss when the weight left him, but it was back almost instantly with the added benefit of Alex's hard cock rubbing against his arsehole. Alex took hold of Draco's legs, positioning them over his shoulders, and slid in without hesitation. He gave Draco a moment to adjust, pressing further forward when he felt Draco relaxing around him. Once Alex was buried to the hilt, he paused, moaning softly. "Gods, Draco. You feel so good."

Draco shifted his hips impatiently, prompting Alex to move. Alex took the hint and moved out slightly, thrusting back in quickly. He set a steady pace and Draco cried out as his prostate was hit.

It was overwhelming. It was far more than Draco had ever done before. He wondered if it was maybe a Muggle thing, but dismissed the idea almost immediately. This was most definitely an Alex thing.

Alex took hold of Draco's erection and stroked it in time with his thrusts. The dual sensations of the hand on his prick, along with the stimulation of his prostate, were too much for Draco, who was almost on sensual overload. He thrust twice into the hand around him before coming with a shout. As his muscles clenched around Alex's cock, Draco felt the man above him stiffen before coming with a groan as well. And Draco was still coming, seeing white spots before his vision blacked out.

* * *

 

Draco was awake for about twenty seconds before he noticed something was wrong. One: This wasn't his bed. Two: This wasn't his house. And Three: Those weren't his legs. He opened his eyes and looked around in alarm. That's when he noticed Alex's dark hair splayed out on the pillow next to him. Draco couldn't believe he had fallen asleep in a trick's house. Or, rather, was he the trick? Either way it was too complicated to contemplate right now and he wasn't even fully coherent yet. The fact of the matter was, he never stayed or allowed others to stay the night. Last night, though, it seemed as though the common sense had been shagged right out of him.

Alex chose that moment to moan slightly in his sleep and Draco couldn't help but turn to face the man completely. There was something about Alex, something that just caught Draco's attention, and wouldn't seem to let go at all. This was bad. Very bad. Draco knew he should get up, extract his clothes and get gone, but he just couldn't seem to get himself to move. He knew he was being completely irrational, seeing as they had just met, but Draco could imagine himself spending a great deal of time with Alex. It was even more irrational when Draco's character came into context. Draco was the "love 'em and leave 'em" type, and if what Blaise had said was true, Alex was exactly the same.

So why did Draco's thoughts keep spiralling in that direction?

Alex seemed to be waking up. He stretched slightly, almost fluidly. He then turned around, facing Draco, and opened his eyes.

Draco felt his blood run cold.

Facing him was Harry Potter.

Alex was disoriented for a few seconds when he opened his eyes. First, he thought he was still dreaming, because he could have sworn that Draco Malfoy was in his bed. He blinked a few times, but Draco was still there... looking at him in shock.

Within a second, the events of the night before came back to him and along with it, the knowledge of his predicament this morning. His glamours had dropped. How stupid could he have been? He never let anyone stay the night. He always kept up-to-date with his glamours. Why had he let it all slip now?

In a split second, Alex had whipped his wand out from under his pillow, reapplied the glamour and altered the wards on his flat to not let anyone leave. He couldn't allow Draco to leave just yet.

He turned to Draco, who seemed to have regained the power of speech. "Potter," he said, angrily. "What in Merlin's name-"

But he was cut off by Alex's wand coming into close contact with his throat. "I am not Harry Potter anymore," Alex snarled.

Draco scoffed and tried to roll out of bed, out of range, but in one swift movement, Alex had the blond pinned to the bed.

"Potter! Get off me! What do you think you're-?"

"You're not listening,  _Draco,_ " Alex hissed. "Harry Potter doesn't exist anymore. He's gone. Just like  _The Daily Prophet_ reported, right?  _Missing: Presumed Dead._  Well, as far as the Wizarding World is concerned, Harry Potter  _is_  dead, and you're not going to say anything."

Draco struggled with the slightly larger – and definitely stronger – man. "Oh yeah?" Draco sneered. "And what makes you think that I'm just going to keep this quiet. What have you ever done for me?"

"Besides saved your neck countless times? And what makes you think that I'd just trust you, anyway? I am not the naive little Gryffindor you once met, Draco. No. I expect a Wizard's Oath."

Draco's brows narrowed. "A Wizard's Oath?"

Alex shifted his weight slightly and brought his face closer to Draco's. Draco tried not to show how much it affected him. "Well, I would prefer an Unbreakable Vow, but that would mean letting someone else in on the secret, and that won't do. Besides, I think that losing your magic would be a greater punishment than losing your life, for someone that lives as you do. Is that not so, Draco?"

Draco did not say anything. Alex was right, and he knew it. Draco had no idea how to live as a Muggle. Spending one night at a Muggle nightclub had been a hardship. He wouldn't know where to start. Draco also knew with a certainty that Alex would not let him leave without extracting the oath from him.

"Okay," he agreed, grudgingly.

Twenty minutes later, fully dressed and under oath, Draco was shown the door. Alex was wearing only a pair of jeans and Draco was finding it very hard to keep his eyes off of the tanned body presented to him. His eyes wound up following the dark hair across the bottom of Alex's abdomen, disappearing under the waistband of the jeans. Draco felt a small – albeit immature – thrill at the thought that he knew exactly what was under those jeans.

Alex silently altered the wards to let Draco leave and opened the door. Draco stepped through it, but then a thought occurred to him, making him turn around before the door closed.

"Alex?" he asked tentatively. "How exactly did Harry Potter die?"

There was a flicker of emotion in the depths of Alex's emerald green eyes, before he answered quietly. "He died in the explosion that killed the last of the people who really cared about him."

And, with that, he shut the door, leaving Draco to contemplate.

* * *

 

" _He died in the explosion that killed the last of the people who really cared about him."_

Draco was sitting alone in the living room of his London townhouse, going over and over the events of the morning in his head. That last sentence just kept reverberating through his mind,

" _He died in the explosion that killed the last of the people who really cared about him."_

Potter had disappeared seven years ago. What happened seven years ago? Then, the answer came to him. The destruction of St Mungo's.

Three years after the end of the war, several low-level Death Eaters had been let out of Azkaban. There had been uproar, obviously, but the Wizengamot couldn't convict them of anything more than actually being Death Eaters because they had not actually participated in any battles or raids. The four Death Eaters were fairly new, only a few weeks past their induction, when the war ended. They had not had much time to really have much effect. If it hadn't been for the Dark Marks on their forearms, the Wizengamot couldn't have convicted them at all. Unfortunately, no one could have predicted just how loyal to the cause they were. Within a week of their release, the ex-Death Eaters had entered St Mungo's and razed the building to the ground, along with everyone in it.

"Tipsy," Draco called. A small house elf appeared, twisting the end of her tea-towel toga nervously.

"You is calling Tipsy, Master Draco, sir?" she squeaked.

"I need you to find me a copy of the Daily Prophet from around the time of the destruction of St Mungo's," he instructed. "If there isn't a copy in the library, go to  _The Daily Prophet_  and request one."

"Yes, Master Draco, sir." The elf gave a curtsy and disapparated with a crack.

With the departure of the house elf, Draco got back to thinking. Who else had Potter been close to? He knew that his Aunt Bella – may she rot in hell – had killed Potter's godfather at the end of fifth year. He hadn't heard the end of it during that summer. And Dumbledore had died at the end of sixth year – as much as Draco would like to forget it. Then there was the final battle. So many people had died in that battle. Draco wouldn't have been surprised if a great many of Potter's friends had died there.

There was a crack, signalling Tipsy's return. She handed him the newspaper and he dismissed her with a nod. Draco scanned the newspaper article. A small section caught his eye.

' _Among the dead are notable war heroes, the Weasley and Longbottom families. It is believed that the Weasley family were visiting Mrs Hermione Granger-Weasley, a close personal friend and rumoured former lover of Harry Potter, who had just given birth to her first child, and that Mr Neville and Mrs Luna Longbottom were visiting Mr Longbottom's parents, who were residents of St Mungo's long-term care ward. The Longbottoms...'_

Draco stopped reading at that. He felt slightly ill. He really couldn't even begin to imagine how Potter – Alex – felt.

The following morning saw Draco, once more dressed as a Muggle, knocking on the door of Alex's flat. He didn't really know why he was there, or what he would say to Potter –  _Alex_ , he kept reminding himself. Would he even answer the door? Was he even in at all? Would he just tell Draco to get lost?

All of Draco's questions were about to be answered as there was a rattling of the door handle before the door opened.

Alex – who was shirtless again, Draco couldn't help but notice – didn't seem all that surprised to see him there. Draco figured the wards must notify him who was at the door. Alex looked slightly worse-for-wear. His hair was ruffled, and his eyes were scrunched up, protesting the light.

"Yeah?" Alex asked, tiredly, leaning against the doorframe.

"I – uh..." Draco trailed off. What  _was_  he doing here? "I just wanted to talk," he ended up saying.

Alex looked at him for a good few seconds before moving aside and letting him through. Draco passed him, trying to contain a shiver at being this close to the man once more.

"You'll have to excuse me for a minute," Alex said hoarsely. He yawned. "I need to eat something before I take painkillers for my hangover. I'd kill for a hangover potion most days." He then paused, seemingly realising the distaste of that sentence before heading for the kitchen.

"Why do you need to eat first?" Draco asked interestedly, following behind him. He had always been interested in Potions and the like, and didn't know of any pain potions that required the taker to eat first.

"Because I only have Ibuprofen," Alex answered, opening the fridge. "It's a Muggle version of a pain potion. It's in pill form. If you take them on an empty stomach, they can cause stomach ulcers, apparently."

"Really?"

"That's what my Aunt always said. I've never really wanted to test the theory, myself."

He pulled the milk out of the fridge and moved over to the kettle, setting the milk down on the counter beside it before flicking it on. He opened a cupboard and pulled a loaf of bread out and put a couple of slices in the toaster. He then turned around, as if realising that Draco was still there.

"Sorry," he said. "Can I get you anything?"

"No thank you," Draco said politely. "I already ate."

"A drink? Tea? Coffee?"

"You sound like a bloody housewife," Draco chuckled.

Alex grinned. "Now that would be something," he commented. "Is that a no?"

"Yes, it's a no. Thank you anyway."

Alex nodded and finished making his breakfast, pouring himself a cup of coffee once the kettle had boiled.

"So what did you want to say?" Alex asked, munching on toast and jam.

Draco fidgeted with his shirt sleeves before forming an answer. "I wanted to apologise," he began. "For being such an arse to you yesterday... Well, for being such an arse to you since the day we met, actually."

Alex laughed. "You don't need to apologise, Draco." Draco felt a tingle in the pit of his stomach whenever Alex said his name. It was weird and he wasn't sure whether he liked it. "Yesterday was a shock. You were just reacting. I understand that. And all those years ago... you were just a boy, really. You were trying to live up to everyone's expectations. It's hard. I know."

Draco could feel some sort of wall form around Alex as he finished talking. Draco wisely decided to try to change the subject and lighten the atmosphere.

"So what do Muggles do for fun?"

The next morning, Alex said nothing when he opened the door to find Draco there again. He just stepped aside to let the wizard through. He was surprised, though, when Draco handed him a small vial.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Hangover potion," replied Draco.

Alex looked at him curiously for a few moments, as if trying to work something out. He then smiled gratefully and downed the potion. He looked back at Draco to find the Slytherin staring at his bare chest.

"What?" he laughed.

Draco looked up, cheeks tinged pink at being caught staring. "Do you never wear a shirt?" he asked.

"Not when I'm just in the flat," Alex answered. "What's the point? Why?" he grinned teasingly. "Like what you see?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Didn't we establish that the other night?" he smirked. "Is it only your face that you glamour?" he asked.

"Yeah," Alex said cautiously. "Why?"

"I'm just surprised that you managed to hide this body while we were at school. Those clothes you wore always made you look like a scrawny git," said Draco.

Laughing, Alex replied. "Well, to be fair, I didn't really start to look like this until after Hogwarts."

Draco wanted to ask more questions. But he also knew that if he pushed Alex too far, he would just shut down. Alex would tell him, in his own time. Draco just needed to go slow.

"So..." Draco began. "I was wondering if I could ask you something."

"Ask away," Alex shrugged.

"Well you were saying something yesterday about the Muggle... cinema?" He looked for confirmation. Alex nodded, so he went on. "And I had some money changed to Muggle money, so I was wondering if maybe you'd take me?" he asked hopefully.

Alex raised his eyebrows. "You want to go and watch a film?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah." Draco bit his lip, praying that Alex would agree.

After a minute, Alex shrugged. "Sure, why not. I'm not sure what's playing though. We'd have to see when we get there."

"Okay," Draco smiled, glad that Alex was willing to spend time with him.

Draco wasn't quite sure what had happened. He hadn't gone out or shagged anybody in two days – which is the most he had gone without since he turned nineteen. He hadn't even felt like it. Maybe something was wrong with him?

He only knew that he wanted to be around Alex. He wanted to know why Alex was hiding. He wanted to know what he had been doing for all these years. He wanted to know what he could do to help.

But, most of all, Draco wanted to know why his every thought revolved around Alexander Taylor.

They wound up seeing a film called  _Stardust._  Alex claimed to have read the book and said it was good. But, once they came out of the movie theatre, Alex claimed that the film was even better than the book.

Draco was spellbound from the very moment that the pre-show advertisements had come on. He had seen nothing like it before. It was like seeing a pensieve memory played out. He remarked on this to Alex, who laughed and agreed with him.

They went back to Alex's flat, talking about inconsequential things. They were just enjoying themselves.

The door opened rather violently on the fourth morning, causing Draco to fall back in surprise.

Alex looked terrible. His eyes were bloodshot with bags under them; his skin was pale and clammy. Against all odds, he was not only wearing a shirt, but also a jumper.

"Look, Malfoy," he snarled. "I'm not in the mood for you today."

Draco raised his eyebrows in alarm. "Gods, what crawled up your arse and died this morning?"

"Get lost, Malfoy." Alex tried to close the door in Draco's face, but Draco stuck his foot out in the way of the door.

"Look,  _Potter,_ " Draco spat. "I have been nothing but – Gods forbid –  _nice_  to you for the past few days. I thought we could just put the past behind us and move on. Seems I was wrong."

Moving his foot from the doorway, Draco turned around to leave. He had hardly gone five steps when he heard Alex call out. "Draco, wait." Draco turned back and looked back at Alex stonily. Alex was looking down at the floor. "I'm sorry. I guess I still have a few things to explain to you."

Draco found himself hard pressed not to snort at the obviousness of that statement. But he refrained because it seemed as though he was finally going to get some of the answers to the numerous questions he had wanted to ask Alex since they woke up together.

Alex stepped aside, holding the door open. Draco walked through it wordlessly. Shutting the door, Alex turned and leant against it, folding his arms across his chest and looking down at the floor.

"I was ill last night." Alex spoke quietly.

Draco snorted. "That's your excuse?"

Alex looked up, eyes full of annoyance. "I wasn't finished," he said sharply. He continued. "I couldn't go out and pick anyone up last night. Who wants to be fucked by a guy who  _knows_  he looks repulsive and can't stop throwing up? I could barely stand."

" _That's_  your excuse? You're being a complete prick because you couldn't get laid last night? That's pathetic."

Angrily, Alex stepped towards Draco, stopping when he was right in front of him. "No. I'm being a complete prick, as you so eloquently put it, because I had barely any sleep last night and the sleep I  _did_  have, was filled with nightmares!"

Draco had nothing to say to that. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Alex's. He had never seen so much emotion in them. "Do you have any idea, Draco," Alex murmured. "What it's like to close your eyes and see nothing but your dead friends. Even when you're awake... you see them in people you've never seen before. I saw a curly-haired woman with a baby the other day and could have sworn it was Hermione. Every time I see a book Remus lent me ten years ago, I think 'Oh, I must remember to take it back to him.' Then I remember. The remembering is the worst part. Even worse than the nightmares, and even they aren't exactly peaches and cream. I relive all the death and destruction. I see Sirius fall. I see Voldemort torture family after family. Do you know how many ways you can torture someone and leave them begging for death without using the Cruciatus curse? I have a better idea than anyone you will ever meet."

Alex raised his hand, as if to touch Draco's cheek. But he decided against it at the last minute, lowering it again awkwardly. "I'm just a person," he said weakly, lowering his eyes. "There's only so much a person can take before they break." He shook his head. "I tried everything. I tried sleeping potions, Muggle sleeping pills, mind healers, Muggle therapists, Occlumency... I even tried relaxation techniques!" He shook his head. "Nothing worked. I started drinking. It didn't fully work, but it took the edge off. Made the world look just that little bit easier to live in, I suppose... at least for a while. Then I started getting drunk enough to lose what little inhibitions I had left, I guess. I started taking men home with me. That's when I realised it."

"What?" Draco breathed quietly, as if afraid that Alex was just going to stop and leave it at that.

"The sex... it helped. The release, combined with the physical exhaustion... It prevented the nightmares. Without the nightmares to constantly keep everything fresh in my mind, everything got a little clearer. I stopped seeing peoples' faces on random strangers in the street. I still remember, and it still throws me, but it was never as bad." Alex ran his fingers through his hair. "Without the sex, the nightmares come back." He paused. "It has to be a different person every time. Never any repeats. I can't have a relationship. No one could put up with me for very long. The mood swings, the demand for sex on a very regular basis. It would wear a regular person out. Plus it's an even greater risk of them catching me when my glamour drops. They wouldn't understand."

"And..." Draco hesitated. "Why 'Alex'?"

Alex met Draco's eyes once more. "Because it kept everything separate," he said simply. "Harry Potter was the boy-who-lived, the defeater of Voldemort. He was the one to watch everyone who ever cared about him die. And Alex... Alexander Taylor was there to pick up the pieces."

There was silence between them then, and in one fluid motion, Draco gathered Alex in his arms as the man broke down.

"I won't say that I understand," Draco said quietly to the man who was asleep with his head on Draco's lap. He knew Alex couldn't hear him, but Draco needed to say it anyway. "Because that would be foolish. No one could understand fully, you were right about that. You witnessed things that no one should ever have to witness. But you  _survived._ You got through it. You may be a little worse-for-wear, but you're  _alive._  You're here, and you're still  _you..._ essentially. And I'm not going anywhere." He took a deep breath. "I want to be here. I want to help. I-I think I'm falling in love with you, Alex. The sex won't bother me. It's what I do most days anyway. And the mood swings... If you think you can cope with mine, I'll try to cope with yours. I want to be with you... so much. It's killing me."

"Do you have any idea how long I have been waiting for you to say that?"

The voice caught Draco by surprise, causing him to give a small, undignified squeak as Alex sat up and turned to face him. "Y-you've been waiting for me t-to-?" Draco stuttered.

"Draco," Alex began. "I've been half in love with you since sixth year. And as for the rest of the stuff... I think we can work it out, somehow."

"Really?"

Alex nodded. "But, Draco... Don't expect miracles. I'm not just going to instantly get better. You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

Draco smirked suggestively. "Why don't you show me?"


End file.
